a trickle
few drops left
and not enough to quench
a normal thirst
yet a flood for mine
when i have given up
the need for water
Tag: write
all the poems (20161209)
every poem should be a love poem
not because there’s so much to love
but because it may be the last poem
i’m not being fatalistic
this isn’t about the grim reaper
hovering behind us all
although, of course, he is
no, what if this is the last poem
what if the words dry up with
the next sunrise
what if it’s last tango for
the fingers and keyboard
it’s not as if i have anything
important to say, nothing that
anyone needs to hear or wants to hear
what if what if what if
the next words the next ink
the next electrons cluttering the
snow white screen make as much sense
as egyptian hieroglyphics to
an albino pet store parakeet
someone excavate the feeling out of this
obscure and amateurish babbling
it all comes down to my love
whatever it’s worth
that’s what these words are
that’s what these words roar
that’s what these poems are
sympathy for the snake (20161208)
teeth are gross
basically
it’s your skeleton
tearing through
your skin
where it’s weakest
where the “in” funnel
opens the food tunnel
to that snake inside you
we’re all the serpent
in the garden
trying to slough off
skin
to live forever
on someone else’s dime
but who wants to live
forever when your bones
are trying to escape
by ripping to shreds
everything that tries
to enter you
it got so damn hard
with these extra limbs
the difference between
sliding off a sock
and struggling out
of a straightjacket
apex (20161207)
the hawk took up more space
than its feathered frame implied
brooding on the light pole pinnacle
watching cars
smart enough to know
that some rabbit would eventually
be spooked by the growl of tires
and make a break for the cover
of the sparse, low brush
lining the onramp
for a moment i’m that hawk
hooded eyes
cool detachment from everything
not at eye level
but all too soon
i am again that rabbit
hoping for sharp shadows
tall grasses
slow traffic
or the mercy of the tire
old ones in new flesh (20161205)
the scar is where the word got in
digging like the worm that it is
lacking but one letter for such a metamorphosis
single-toothed it found fertile ground and began to feed
to breed, a heart sized parasite
scar, i name thee trust
——
no need for repair (20161204)
–it’s broken, you said
i took it from you, turned
it in my hands
wondering if there were
some lathe that could spin true
and steady hands to hold the tools
to reshape your heart
i shrugged and handed
it back to you
–it’ll do as is, i said
metamorphosis (20161203)
i woke up with elephant
tusks protruding
curving down under my lip
i tore holes in the sheets during the night
impaled my pillow
fell twice after getting out of bed
until i found my new balance
i used a whole tube of toothpaste
brushing them
–they’re teeth aren’t they–
flossing took an hour
and i had to put the seat
all the way back in the car
to drive to work
no one else i met with
had grown overnight tusks
a girl in accounting
had sprouted a unicorn horn
and i commented
that would have been so much
more convenient
except for my hats
she said she sleeps on her stomach
and she woke up stuck to
her headboard
and her husband had to pull her free
by yanking her ankles
they were still bruised
i agreed that must have sucked
i might take up scrimshaw
i mean
it’s my ivory
cusp (20161202)
swallowing bones
and pieces of bones
breathing in smoke
it is myself burning
hands hold me down
hands open me up
set fire to my tongue
and funnel cement
into my mouth
breathe
panic
breathe
panic
enough lead
to weigh me down
i will not be
needing my eyes
for this
not ghosts (20161201)
i feel it
standing behind me
the spectre of that old man
shaped like my father
on the outside
on the inside
with a shadow
neither long nor dark
no chills race up my spine
but there is that whisper
you too
you too
December Open Mic
HO HO HO!
No, I’m not making personal remarks. It’s that time of year when fat, bearded guys like me laugh maniacally and write poetry about reindeer and snow and yule logs.
Mmm… logs…
So, give me the gift I really want instead of socks or a tie. Submit to the Open Mic.
SUBMIT
Santa commands you!
The Skinny:
- Record yourself reading one of your own works.
- Post it on your site.
- Include a link to this site in your post.
OR Comment on that month’s call for entries
OR send me a message using the contact form. - I will post a link with your name and poem title RIGHT HERE.
- It’s an open mic invitation. NOT a challenge.
Some tips:
- Go simple.
I record using my iPhone, then email/share the file with myself. I very rarely edit it, unless I really waited too long to start talking. - Want better quality?
You can get a relatively inexpensive mic on Amazon that you can hook up to your computer. Some of there come with editing software. If I do edit, I use Audacity on the Mac. It’s free and pretty easy to use. There’s a version for Windows, too. - Hosting.
If you pay WordPress to host your site, you can add your audio by clicking on the Add Media button in the post editor. Have the free WordPress? You have options.All of the sites below will let you upload audio. Some will host for free up to a certain amount of storage. (I think with Youtube, you’ll have to upload a movie, but you use a still image and add your poem.) - Questions?
Ask below or contact me using the contact form (up above). I’ll try to help you out! - And if you have any tips, feel free to share them!
December 2016
******
Pleasant Street
patches
******
Poet Rummager
Frost
Words and Feathers 